A Detective and his Army Doctor
by the-game-mrs-hudson-is-on
Summary: Sherlock experiences a feeling he doesn't understand and has never felt before. John helps him to understand and discovers a confession of Sherlock's. Johnlock. Oneshot. Originally posted on Tumblr.


Sherlock stormed through the door, his long black coat flowing behind him and began to pace the room. John looked up from his newspaper, rolled his eyes and continued reading; this was a regular occurrence at 221B Baker Street. When however it got past five minutes of Sherlock wearing down the floorboards, John folded his paper up and sighed at his a tall friend.

"What now Sherlock?" John asked tiredly, having only slept for a maximum of an hour the previous night, due to the constant violin which meant his flatmate had something on his mind; which was constantly. Sherlock continued to pace, putting his hands together and resting them underneath his chin.

"A dilemma".

"You always have a dilemma. What's the case maybe I could help?" John offered as a last resort to aid his friend. However Sherlock just shook his head and sighed, closing his eyes.

"This is something that you can't help with John…you just can't" Sherlock breathed out, sinking down in the chair across from John, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

They sat for five minutes in the comfortable silence, John nearly dropping off once or twice due to his tiredness. When he was nearly unconscious, Sherlock shot up; flinging his coat on to the hook on the back of the door and practically running into the kitchen.

Throwing open the fridge, Sherlock didn't wince at the smell like John and Mrs Hudson, but went straight-strangely- for some food. _Wow, he really is feeling ill. _John thought to himself, proceeding to stand up and make his way to the kitchen, where he found Sherlock helping himself to a family pack of French fries. John moved to the kettle and filled it up, before flicking the switch and sitting down opposite Sherlock.

John reached his hand into the bag and flinched as his touched Sherlock's. Deciding to ignore the tingling in his fingers, he put one into his mouth, chewing and swallowing before the kettle signified it has boiled.

"Tea?"

"Please" Sherlock replied, not looking up from the table. _God, he's even saying his pleases and thank yous, something really is wrong. _

John made the tea and placed it in front of his friend.

"So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" John asked, taking a sip of his tea and reaching for the crisps again.

Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes before locking them to John's.

"I am experiencing something, and I don't understand it" he said finally. John nodded his head, trying to show that he understood.

"And, what is this thing you are experiencing?" John questioned. Sherlock ran his hand through his curly black hair. John thought he saw a tear in the corner of his friend's eye.

"I don't know, John. That's the dilemma. I am experiencing- no, _feeling _something that I haven't felt before, and I don't understand"

John contemplated what Sherlock had said, still confused by his friend's outbreak.

"What provoked this...feeling in you?"

Sherlock looked down, his cheeks reddening. The first time John had ever seen Sherlock blush.

"It's complicated" John sighed.

"Sherlock, you can tell me anything. What is it?" John replied. Sherlock paused and looked back into John's eyes.

"You"

John eyes widened in confusion as he stared at his friend.

"I knew I could be irritating, but I didn't think I was that annoy-"

"No...John. You're not annoying, the complete opposite" Sherlock interrupted him, silently mustering up courage and swallowing hard before speaking again "What I'm feeling for you, I think the word is..."

John tilted his head, urging Sherlock to go on.

"Love"

* * *

_He loves me? Sherlock Holmes, confessing love for me, John Watson. There must be some kind of mistake. How could a man like him love-no even like-someone like me? _

John blinked continuously, staring at the wooden table, trying to let what Sherlock had just confessed, sink in.

"So" John began "you, Sherlock Holmes, are saying you love me, John Watson? Do I have something wrong with my hearing?" John joked, knocking on his ears to make sure. Sherlock just sighed.

"Yes John, you know how I dislike repeating myself"

"I know. I'm just in disbelief and shock at the moment"

Sherlock nodded.

"That's understandable, due to the circumstances"

The silence that followed was neither awkward, nor comfortable. It was wavering in between.

"So?" Sherlock finally spoke. Looking hopefully towards John and tilting his head.

"I think that" John began "even though that this is completely unexpected and what I thought to be highly unlikely, I cannot deny that..." Sherlock nodded expectantly.

"I may just love you too"

Sherlock's eyes lit up like he was seeing a real Christmas for the first time in his life and a big goofy smile that John had never imagined would suit the detective stood proudly upon his face, looking at home where it was. John's face stretched into a smile at seeing Sherlock's face and began to giggle and look down, almost embarrassed.

Sherlock reached a hand over the table and placed it over John's shaking one, steadying the tremor that ran through it. Sherlock's eyes burned into John's as a warm smile appeared on his face before speaking.

"You make me the happiest I have been in this lifetime" he said to John, before pressing a warm kiss to the back of the army doctor's hand.

_His _army doctor.

He smiled at the thought and took a sip of his tea, feeling the warmest he had ever felt.


End file.
